


No Power

by WitchRavenFox



Series: Festive Ficlets 2018 [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Power Outage, festive drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 21:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18972892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchRavenFox/pseuds/WitchRavenFox
Summary: Nothing like a power outage to make people find something to do in it. And tables are useful... right??





	No Power

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Update 8 for today. Getting another step closer to finishing, even though most have been written for months... I mean MONTHS!! It's all change from here on as there will only be one concept for each prompt. The prompt list I am using is by Pentatonix Christmas, and the prompt is the title.
> 
> I have no beta, so all mistake are my own. I do not own Teenwolf or get any cashola from writing this. I just have a mind that likes to tinker with their lives <3
> 
> Please leave kudos and cookies ;)

‘Damn brown-out.’ Stiles swore, pushing away from the dinner table and Derek. ‘I’m going to grab some candles babe, and a box of matches if I can, can you find those lanterns we used in the summer for the barbecues? The one’s that are enclosed?’

Derek paused for a moment to think of live flames in the house, and fought down his initial panic to remember that Stiles could control fire now, and that in all the years they had lived together he had never, not once ever, let a flame loose he couldn’t control, so tea lights and candles were nothing.

They each went on this missions and met back in the dining room, and set about lighting things up the traditional way, and tried to finish their dinner, but the silence was thick with something that neither could quite describe.

As Derek swallowed the last of his food, Stiles was in his space from across the table, drawing him into a kiss on their toes.

‘Closer, Derek, I want to be closer,’ Stiles mumbled, ‘let’s go upstairs.’

Running his hands down Stiles’s side, he gripped him around the waist and lifted him over the corner of the table and into his lap and murmured suggestively against his lips. ‘We don’t need to go upstairs. It’s dark, and we have a perfectly good table right here.’

 

By the time the power was back on, the perfectly good table had a fractured leg in need of desperate attention, while Derek and Stiles were laying entwined on the food giggling.


End file.
